Of Boars and Kings
by Alinah
Summary: (Complete)When Aragorn attempts to visit the Hill of Awe, the former burial site of King Elendil, he and Legolas are attacked by an unlikely opponent.


**Note:**This story takes several elements of Tolkien´s writing and twists them around a little – therefore it can be considered AU. No beta reader has read this. I apologize for any mistakes left in there.

**Personal note:** It has been many, many years since I published my last LOTR story so I´m pretty sure none of "my" old readers are still around but if you are – sorry for not completing my last story. Life got in the way, many things happened, but now the plot bunnies have picked up the chase again and I plan on writing stories whenever I have the time. I hope you keep enjoying them!

**Disclaimer:**Not mine at all

**Of Kings and Boars**

"Where did it go?"

Aragorn struggled to keep upright. His sword felt heavy after the long fight, its tip almost touching the ground even though he gripped the hilt with both hands. Blood dripped into his eyes, clouding his vision, and he impatiently shook his head to clear it. Now was not the time to give in to injury and fatigue, even though their foe seemed to have disappeared like a whisp of smoke amidst a roaring fire.

Just like it had come, a great shadow springing at them from the depth of the underbrush. Had the trees of Firien Wood not whispered a warning to Legolas, both man and elf might very well have perished within the blink of an eye. Never in his life had Aragorn seen a boar this huge, nor one this aggressive.

Not getting an answer, the ranger risked a quick glance behind him. Legolas was on his hands and knees, breathing heavily. He did not even try to get to his feet, but obviously sensed his friend´s stare for he answered in a low voice: "It is gone now. You wounded it badly."

Aragorn turned his attention back towards the trees where he had seen the great beast last. "We both did", he replied. "By the Valar, it should have been dead moments after it came for us. Your second arrow caught it in the eye." He spoke just as quietly as his friend, the fabled forest living up to its reputation for keeping every visitor respectfully silent.

"And your stab to its heart should have driven life straight out of it." The human sensed more than heard the elf gaining his bearings, lightly stepping beside him. An arrow, one of the elf´s last, was trained into the growing shadows. It wavered ever so slightly.

For long moments, elf and man simply stood there and waited. Neither was willing to accept the sudden flight of a creature that had come far too close to killing them both.

It had certainly managed to harm their horses, forcing them to send them away, and leave them barely on their feet.

Very slowly, dusk began to settle around them and Aragorn felt his exhaustion battle the growing unease inside of him. He knew their seeming victory was treacherous, for darkness seldom favoured those who fought evil. The boar had seemed more than a mere beast to him, driven by an intense hatred that was usually reserved for men. Or elves, on occasion.

"We should make for the trees", Legolas said quietly. "They will offer some protection until morning comes."

The young ranger nodded his agreement, even though he was doubtful whether he could reach a branch high enough to keep him out of harm´s way. From what he had seen, he was not even sure his elven companion would fare any better.

They had but little choice. Despite their injuries, both friends turned away from the site of their battle, slowly making their way into the even denser parts of the forest. It had been their plan to reach the Mering Stream this day and then follow it, but any thought of that was gone now.

Aragorn allowed Legolas to take the lead. Now and again he would whistle a low tune that carried far into the still forest. There was no reply, no far-away neighing that told them their horses were near. Neither of them uttered their worry.

Legolas had strapped his bow to his back once more and instead carried one of his knives at the ready. Even so, the ranger noticed how the elf kept placing a hand onto a tree´s trunk every few feet, though whether he did so to support himself or to converse with the tree he did not know. Very probably both.

The battle had left Legolas´ back covered with deep gashes from the boar´s tusks, the blood soaking into his garments, turning them so dark they seemed almost black. Yet the elf did not seem to be bleeding heavily anymore, allowing Aragorn a little time before he needed to treat the injuries.

Still lost in thoughts, the ranger´s foot caught on a root and he stumbled, barely catching himself. The sudden movement sent a bolt of lightning through his head, the pain intense enough for him to teeter along the edge of unconsciousness for what seemed like an eternity.

When grey light returned to his vision and he could see the forest again, Legolas was at his side, supporting him. The elf kept his gaze trained at their surroundings, unwilling to be caught off-guard again, but his words were directed at his friend.

"A fine pair we make tonight, Estel", he said not without mirth. "A woodlef and a ranger, stumbling though the forest with all the garce of a mumakil."

Aragorn snorted with silent laughter. "I say we spare ourselves the continued embarrassement and make camp right here." He knew with certainty that his legs would not be able to carry him much farther, and as much support as Legolas gave him, he could feel slight tremors of exhaustion running through the elf as well.

Legolas nodded, his eyes turned upwards as he searched the branches above them with practiced ease. He then chose an oak with a sturdy, wide trunk and branches that would hold both elf and human. Unfortunately, said branches only began prodruding from the tree a fair way up.

"I am afraid I will not manage acrobatics like that tonight", the ranger confessed with a sigh. "You shall need to select a smaller tree for me."

"I will do no such thing. " The elf lowered his friend to the ground and rather painfully collected a rope from his pack. "This oak will serve both of us well, for it says that it harboured an injured human once already, many winters ago. It seems eager to assist us, almost like it needs to make amends."

The elf circled the tree, searching for the best route upwards. On a regular day he would have climbed it in a heartbeat, but this day he needed to make wise choices or risk further injury. When he finally did begin to climb, his footing was not as sound as it should have been and he slipped, needing several tries to reach the lowest limb.

Still on the ground, Aragorn could hear the elf´s uncharacteristically heavy breathing and he watched his friend intently, his worry growing when the prince kept sitting still, as if he had fallen asleep from exhaustion. He was just about to call out when Legolas straightened and stood to his feet with an audible hiss of pain.

"Maybe that lowest branch will do", the ranger said. "It will keep us off the ground at least."

"Off the ground is not on a tree", Legolas scoffed, though his voice sounded strained. "Do not worry, my friend. Once I have found a secure place, I shall lower the rope and help you up."

"My worry was not directed at myself", Aragorn muttered, even though that was only half the truth. He forced his attention away from the elf, whom he could hear far too easily, and instead watched the forest for any signs of danger. Not that he could have done much to defend himself.

He now cursed himself for his foolish plan. It had been him who had persuaded Legolas to postpone their meeting with Lord Elrond´s twin sons who awaited them at the Gondorian border. He had been eager to visit the ancient Firien Wood, not for its whispering trees, which had certainly aided Legolas´ decision to come here, but for the Hill of Awe. Situated at the southeastern corner of the forest, it had once held the remains of king Elendil.

Ever since hearing the story of Elendil´s first burial site, Aragorn had felt the urge to see it, to follow the great stones along the path that lead to the stariway. To set foot onto the stairs themselves and follow them to the summit, even though he knew that the fabled king´s remains where no longer there. That now all he would find would be one of the beacons that served as a reminder for Rohan´s oath of loyalty towards Gondor.

Despite all this he sensed that this place would offer him a connection, slight as it may be, to the ancestor whose name he so often said with pride.

"Estel!" Legolas´ voice finally drifted through the thick foilage. "Estel, do you hear me?"

"Of course I do", the man replied. "It is about time you remembered about me, elf, for darkness falls and I yet await my opportunity to get to safety." In truth it was dark enough already to obscure almost anything from sight but the great oak in front of him.

Instead of a reply, an elven rope rustled through the leaves and dangled only a few feet from the young man´s face. It glimmered lightly in the gloom. For a moment the ranger felt too tired to even get up. But then a gentle breeze brushed past his face. It was subtle, like a spiderweb´s touch, yet it seemed to strengthen his resolve. He wondered at the strangeness of this experience, but quickly brushed the thought aside.

"Very well then", Aragorn muttered to himself. Truth be told, he did not look forward to a night in a tree, and even less to the climb that would get him there. Yet there was no choice for him and he did not intend to die down here.

Painfully, he pulled himself to his feet and tied the rope beneath his arms. Looking up, he hesitated. Even the lowest branch looked frighteningly far up, especially knowing that Legolas would have to pull him upwards despite of his injuries.

Planting one foot against the tree, Aragorn shook his head to himself. "We should not be doing it like this", he said. "I should stay down here for now and..." Before he could finish, there was a sharp pull on the rope and the ranger found his free foot in the air, his body tilting backwards. He quickly grabbed the rope to righten himself and tried to help, his feet searching for a foothold along the trunk.

"Estel, daro!" /Estel , stop!/ came a rather pained command from above. "Alritho!" /Do not move quickly./

Cursing under his breath, Aragorn complied. He knew that any sudden movement would make pulling him up all the harder, but it was difficult to stay motionless when he heard the small sounds of pain from his friend.

After what seemed to the ranger an impossibly long time, he finally reached the lowest branch and managed to take some of his weight off the rope. His struggle upwards became every so slightly easier afterwards. It almost felt as if the tree aided him, moving its branches beneath his feet and pushing him upwards.

Even so, his heart raced and his head swam when he fianlly reached a forked branch below Legolas. Neither said a word, for both were out of breath and out of strength. Weakly, Aragorn patted the elf´s booted foot by way of thanks. Any further movement seemed inconceivable.

For a while, Aragorn allowed himself to drift. The relative safety of the tree made him relax slightly, and his body immediately seized the opportunity for rest. At the edge of his consciousness he sensed Legolas climbing down to him, tying the rope around him, securing him to the tree. He was dimly aware that he should protest such measures, for he had slept in trees many a time, but he could not get his voice to comply.

He must have drifted into a deeper sleep after that, because when Legolas called his name and gently shook his shoulders, the stars had moved on and the night had turned into a deep, velvety blackness.

"Ai, Estel, you took your time awakening." There was relief in the elf´s voice. "How do you fare?"

"Exhausted, because I was awakened in the middle of the night." Aragorn paused, trying to collect his thoughts. His vision was slightly blurry and he blinked, trying to clear it. Legolas sat a feet feet away from him on the same branch. The pale light of the stars reflected in his eyes, giving them an almost feverish shimmer.

"Are you well?" the ranger asked, suddenly worried. He had not even tried to treat the gashes on his friend´s back.

Legolas smiled reassuringly. "Well enough, my friend. But when I cleaned the wound on your forehead and realized that the injury was worse than I had thought, I tried to wake you. As I have said, you took your time. It is almost dawn."

Aragorn´s hand drifted to his head, feeling the bandage there, and realized that his other hurts had been taken care of as well.

His gaze cleared as he looked at his friend again. "How are you, truly?"

Legolas shrugged and winced, realizing at the same time that he had given himself away. "My back hurts, but it will heal in time. There is no need to worry."

The ranger would have liked to believe these words, but he had seldom seen the elf as utterly exhausted as he had been after the fight with the boar. One did not often find the prince of Mirkwood unable to rise, and certainly not for little reasons. Even so, the man had to face the fact that he could do little about this now.

"And you intend to keep me awake for the rest of the night?" He raised an eyebrow. "I do not wish to insult you, my prince, but it will take more than your commanding presence to do so, for I am more tired than I have been in a long time. Sleep is tugging at my soul as we speak."

The elf smiled, a truly genuine gesture this time. "A friend has promised to help me." His hand gently slid across the tree´s bark. "It is worried, worried that history may repeat itself. It is asking me to tell you the story of the other injured man that once rested against its trunk."

Almost against his will, Aragorn felt his interest awaken. He sensed that he may know the story, somewhere deep down, as he had heard so many during his youth in Imladris. But for now, he was happy to be offered something that his mind could cling to.

He nodded at Legolas, who in turn began to speak.

"There was a day, many a winter and summer ago, when the peace of the Firien Wood was disturbed by a mighty battle. It did not rage between man and man or man and orc, as the trees might have suspected, for they generally distrust these creatures. No, it was fought between a man and a mighty boar. The beast even had a name, for it was known as the Boar of Everholt."

The elf´s quite words seemed to expand around Aragorn, almost as if they were being quietly repeated by unheard voices. The leaves of the oak started to shake and whisper even though no breeze could be felt.

"The trees were worried. They could sense that the boar was not merely a beast of the wild. There was malice in his actions, not just mindless defense. Against their usual habits, the trees began siding with the human warrior. A brave man he was, having sought out the boar instead of becoming its victim, but he did not know what the trees could feel – that the boar was not simply fighting for its life, but had been sent to destroy men of power and goodness. Men meant to lead their people."

Legolas paused, his eyes seeking out Aragorn´s. The oak felt truly restless now, as if it was coming to life in a way even the ranger yould feel. Aragorn was unsure whether it was his injury playing with his senses, but he thought the mighty tree´s bark moved behind his back as if it drew breath. A deep, sad sigh rustled the foilage and the neighbouring trees picked up the sound, carrying it away from them through the dark forest. Like a stone being thrown into a lake, creating rippled circles in the water.

The woodelf absent-mindedly stroked the branch he was sitting on, offering comfort, and continued to speak.

"The fight raged a day and a night. Both man and boar were injured gravely, yet neither retreated, neither fled, neither was willing to allow the other to live. Other men entered the forest, seeking out the first, because he was their king and they worried about his absence. The trees attempted to guide them to the battle, but the men were blind and deaf to their attempts. They..."

The elf stopped yet again, abruptly sitting up. Aragorn could sense the complete change coming over the prince even before his friend rose to reach above him, retrieving his bow and knives. "It returns", Legolas said simply. He gazed downwards, as did Aragorn, but even though the complete darkness of the night had given way to greyish pre-dawn light, they could not see the ground.

Tilting his head made Aragorn dizzy and he rightened himself, closing his eyes. Beside him, he heard Legolas whipser to the oak."Edro is golas, mellon-nîn." /Open the foilage, my friend/

Wood groaned and leaves rustled more loudly in reaction to the plea, and Aragron heard Legolas draw a deep breath. "The boar is standing at the foot of the tree", he reported quietly.

The ranger braced himself and glanced down. The sight that met him was one he would never forget. The tree had cleared a path for their vision. In the gloom the boar stood silently, its head titled upwards. His one remaining eye seemed to glow ever so slightly. From his other socket protruded the remainder of Legolas´ arrow, but it was shortened and splintered as if the beast had tried to remove it by rubbing against a hard surface.

Sensing that its prey was near, the animal stepped back, prancing. Its demeanour was not that of a wounded beast, not even that of a tired one. Its movements were precise and filled with energy. There was nothing natural about this boar.

"It hunts", Legolas stated flatly. There was no need to add whom. Silently, the elf nocked an arrow to his bow. There were but two left now.

Just when he levelled the weapon at the beast, the elf stopped. He inclined his head the way he usually did when listening intently, and Aragorn thought he saw the tiniest smile appear on his friend´s face. It was swiftly replaced by grim determination, however, when Legolas concentrated on their foe once more.

He took his time to aim, waiting for the boar to stop its prancing. The same heartbeat that it did, the arrow whistled towards the ground. It was as if the forest itself was holding its breath.

The board´s head snapped up and it roared, a sound unlike that any pig should make, then it jumped to the side and the arrow splintered with an audible crack as it hit a rock on the forest floor. Legolas cursed under his breath. The next arrow was at the ready in a heartbeat, but now the boar had started moving, too. It lowered its head and rammed its mighty tusks into the tree, sending a barely noticable shiver up its trunk.

Then it raced around to the other side of the oak, repeating its attack. Again. And again. And again.

Aragorn heard the tree moan and creak as it attempted to grant Legolas a clear target, but the boar was moving too quickly.

"It is no use!" With another curse on his lips Legolas strapped the bow to his back and grabbed Aragorn´s shoulders. "You stay up here Estel, and do not try to losen the rope. We both know that you would likely get dizzy and fall." He raised a hand to still his friend´s protests, and the ranger found himself complying. There was a fury in the elf´s eyes that had darkened them in a way he had rarely seen before.

"Trust me when I say this, mellon-nîn, we will not stand alone for long. Others have entered the forest, those who can follow the trees´ guidance. But if I wait for their arrival, the boar might have damaged the oak beyond saving."

Aragorn opened his mouth to speak then, almost saying that a mere tree was not worth Legolas risking his life, but he stopped himself just in time, noticing what a deadly insult such a claim would have been.

"Be careful", was all he said, "and leave me your bow. Try to lead the boar to where I can see it." The elf hesitated for a moment, doubt crossing his face, but then he did as his friend had asked.

"Worry not", he called, beginning to climb. "If the spiders of my home have not yet killed me, a lone boar shall not have the pleasure." Only that it was not a simple boar, but Aragorn refrained from saying so, as they both knew it to be true.

The ranger watched Legolas closely as he climed. He noticed the stiffness in his movements, the slight hesitation when he was forced to bend his back to reach the next branch, and his stomach clenched. Yet all he could do was have arrow and bow ready for the kill.

The boar continued his assault on the tree. It seemed to concentrate on one spot now, and even Aragorn could hear wood splintering from where he sat high in the branches.

Legolas had reached the lowest limb now. Taking his knives into both hands, he jumped.

Legolas landed in a roll and had barely gained his feet before the boar rushed at him, thrusting its tusks at the elf´s side. Legolas managed to sidestep the attack and buried one of his knives so deeply into the beast´s neck that he failed to be able to pull it back out.

Left with only one weapon, the elf stumbled backwards, slightly off balance.

The animal screamed in pain. Throwing its weight sideways, it knocked the elf to the ground and fell on top of him with an audible thud. Both scrambled to regain their footing, but it was the boar which got to its feet first, while Legolas only managed to push himself onto his hands and knees. He shook his head in an obvious attempt to clear it while fresh blood oozed from a wound at his temple.

Aragorn gave a shout of alarm. He remembered only too clearly how long it had taken his friend to recover from a similar position the evening before. Without thinking further, he took aim and let his arrow fly. It left the string with an angry hiss that seemed to alert the beast at the very last second, for once again it managed to avoid the deadly missile, which buried itself into the soft ground, quivering lightly.

At least the attack from above had driven the boar back a few steps, giving Legolas the time to get to his feet. He even had the presence of mind to grab for the arrow. Equipped with two weapons once more, it was the elf who attacked this time, driving the boar back, one step after another.

Aragorn´s heart pounded in his chest. Maybe the knife had inflicted enough damage to finally weaken the beast. His hopes where short-lived, however, for as soon as the two opponents had left his direct line of sight, keeping him from using the bow again, the beast charged with renewed strength, attempting to bring the prince to the ground.

Legolas did not react quite fast enough, the onslaught catching him in the hip and swirling him around. This time he managed to stay on his feet, however, and used the momentum to throw himself across the beast, ramming the arrowhead into its remaining eye.

The boar reared, panic in its roar, and stumbled, once again burying the elf beneath its heavy bulk. Aragorn cursed as he strained to see, and he heard branches creak and leaves rustle as the tree attempted to free his vision. When it did, the ranger´s breath caught in his throat.

The beast was running this way and that, screaming in what seemed to be a mixture of agony and frustration, before it finally stopped, sides heaving.

The elf lay face-down on the ground, unmoving.

"Legolas, amrhinc, amrihnc!" /Legolas, get up, get up!/ Aragorn struggled against the rope that secured him to the tree, cursing in frustration. He felt panic rise, and even though he knew that he needed to fight it, it was like a flood that was ready to sweep him away.

But then there was the breeze again, the slight touch to his cheek. A whisper that spoke of courage floated past his ear and he calmed. Suddenly realizing his chance, he grabbed last remaining arrow and used its tip to cut through the silky material.

Beneath him, the boar had calmed also. It raised its eyeless head, turned it from side to side and sniffed. Sniffed again. Slowly, it began moving towards Legolas.

The ranger yelled out in a vain attempt to divert the beast´s attention, then shouted in triumph when the rope finally fell away, granting him the freedom to move about. He glanced towards the ground, calculating the time he would need to climb down and reach his friend, but quickly decided against even trying. Sitting up alone had sent a flare of pain through his head, blurring his vision.

It was a small favour that the boar was impaired by his blindess as well, repeatedly colliding with bushes or the small birch trees that sprouted near the big oak. Even so, the beast still made its way towards Legolas and Aragorn had no doubt in is mind what would happen once the boar had reached the unconscious elf.

He had to make his last arrow count, or all was lost. Moving a bit farther out onto the branch, the ranger fought to control both his racing heart and his growing dizziness. He aimed carefully, then he allowed the arrow to fly.

No sooner had he loosend the shot than he was hit by a fresh wave of disorientation. The bow clattered from his hands to the depth below while he grabbed for the branch, holding on for dear life as the world spun around him in sickening circles.

Beneath him, he heard the boar squeal. In the distance, horses neighed as their hooves drummed the earth. Legolas had been right. All they needed to do was stay alive just a little longer.

When he had finally reached the safety of the trunk again, leaning his back against its protective bulk, he risked a glance down.

The boar was only a few feet away from Legolas´ still form, struggeling to free itself from a slender birch tree. It took Aragorn a moment to realize that he had hit the beast in the leg, the arrow moving clear through the flesh and pinning the animal to the tree. He could barely believe his eyes. A shot like this was all but impossible and he had no explanation how he had managed such a feat.

Faintly, he thought to hear a gentle laugh, but it was gone too fast and his mind was far too occupied to truly notice.

All he could do now what pray to the Valar that the beast would not be able to pull free before the riders arrived.

His prayers where in vain.

With an almost human grunt the boar threw all of its weight forward and ripped the arrow through its flesh. Stumbling only momentarily, it now made its way straight for Legolas and there was nothing left that Aragorn could do.

Unable to avert his heyes, the young man looked on in horror, waiting for the impact that was sure to come. When it did, it turned out to be quite different than he had feared.

At the very last moment, a great black stallion jumped between the still elf and the boar, rearing high and bringing its hooves down upon the beast´s skull in a sickening crunch. Stunned, the boar tumbled sideways.

The horse´s rider, his hair as black as his animal´s fur, practically flew off his steed´s back. The light of the rising sun glinted red upon his sword as he raised it high and swung it in a deadly arc.

Mere heartbeats later as second rider arrived, the perfect mirror image of the first, from his horse to his raven hair. He dismounted his own steed in a move too swift to see and sent both stallions away with a shouted order, positioning himself protectively between the struggeling boar and the elven prince.

As great as the mighty beast was, it stood no chance against their combined fury. Swords slashed and bone splintered as the boar breathed his last, and when a group of young mounted warriors arrived at the scene with the first yellow morning light, all that was left of the animal was a heap of bleeding flesh and skin.

"I would never have thought that I would need to recue you out of a tree yet again, little brother." Elladan´s voice was full of mirth. "The last time I had to do so you were not yet seven summers old." His hands carefully examined the ranger´s head wound with far more gentleness in his touch than his words let on.

Aragorn suffered though his friendly bickering with a smile. His relief upon seeing his two elven brothers arrive with not a second to spare, a group of Rohirrim at their heels no less, had melted his bones into uselessness. He had not trusted himself to climb down on his own.

The first hour after their rescue had been a bustle of activity. The Rohan warriros had set up a camp, leaving the elves to tend to the wounded. At first, Lord Elrond´s sons had worked on Legolas together, their faces grim, but once they had discovered that their friend´s injuries were not quite as severe as they had feared, the mood had lightened.

Now Elrohir was cleaning the deep wounds on the prince´s back on his own, while Elladan made sure their younger brother was well taken care of. "These wounds look older", the younger twin observed. "They were certainly not inflicted this morning."

"The same can be said about your injuries." Elladan eyed the young ranger with interest. "I am sure there is a story worth telling behind all this."

"There is", Aragorn agreed, "and you will hear it in time. Legolas will need to wake, though, for he did not finish the tale the oak had told him." The twins exchanged a look, both raising an eyebrow, but did not comment.

"Seeing that both of you are awake", the human continued, eager to divert the attention from himself, "why do you not tell me how you come to be here."

"Well, it just so happened that we were waiting for two friends of ours, not far from here" Elladan began and handed his brother fresh bandages. "But alas, despite their good upbringing, the friends did not come in time, and a deep boredom took hold of us. Luckily, a group of brave Rohan soldiers crossed our path and they were kind enough to allow us join the hunt they were on."

The raven-haired elf did not specify what had been hunted, but there was no need. As gentle as Elladan and Elrohir were when it came to friends or family, as ruthless they were when confronted with orcs. Hunting the foul creatures was more than a necessary evil for them. In Aragorn´s eyes, it was almost an addiction, and the brothers seldom spoke of it at all.

Before Elldan could continue, one of the Rohan warriros approached them. Even though his demeanour was not frightened, the repect that showed in his eyes bordered on fear. Aragorn could not blame him, for he knew his brothers to be nothing but scary in battle.

"My lords, we have finished setting up tents. Should we help you carry your wounded friend into one?"

It was Elrohir who answered. "We thank you for your assistance, my friend, but for the moment we will stay here. The weather is gentle and it will probably aid the prince´s recovery to be out in the fresh air."

The man´s eyes widened in surprise. "The woodelf is of royal blood? What a coincidence that he was harmed by a giant boar..." The man´s voice trailed off as if he was unsure whether his words had been an insult.

Aragorn´s interest was aroused. "Coincidence? Why is that?"

The man looked at him, obviously relieved to be talking to a human now. "Well, stranger, every man, woman and child here in Rohan knows the story of the mighty king Folca, who came to these woods a long time ago to rid the region of a terrible boar. He managed the feat, yet he paid for the victory with his life."

Aragorn nodded, the distant memory of this tale flooding back to him now. So this was the human who had died leaning against the very tree that had rescued them. Now this was a coincidence indeed.

"The story goes" the warrior continued, "that the boar was no normal animal, but had been sent by some evil force to rob the people of Rohan of their leader. Many say even today that none of royal blood should set foot in this forest, or the boar would return." He looked at Legolas´ still form and shrugged, unsure what to say next.

Aragorn smiled. "It is blessing for the people of Mirkwood then that their prince was saved by brave Rohan warriors." The man blushed slightly, gave a curt nodd and moved away.

Elrohir chuckled. "Smoothly saved, Estel. You are lucky that Elladan and I do not mind that you just handed our victory to someone else."

"He had more need of the praise than you did", the human replied lightly, then turned to Elladan. "You did not quite finish your tale."

The older twin shrugged. "There is not much more to tell. We were just heading back towards the Gondorian boder when two riderless horses approached us, slightly wounded and full of fear for their masters. They lead us to the forest, the forest lead us to you, and we were able to rescue Mirkwood´s future."

The three brothers laughed. It turned out to be a peaceful day.

The night was equally quiet and soothingly warm. Aragorn had asked his and his friend´s bedrolls to be placed by the oak´s trunk. He sat leaning against the tree, waiting for the elf to open his eyes, and breathed in the still peacefulness aound him. Yet again he felt that he was not alone, that someone unseen was beside him. A reassuring persence he savored.

When Legolas finally woke, he gazed at the stars for a long time without a word. Then, he reached out, his hand lightly touching the rough bark of the oak.

"It is recovering", he muttered, "good." With that his eyes glazed over in healing sleep, leaving Aragorn to chuckle lightly at the woodelf´s priorities.

It was many days before they could continue their journey. Aragorn finally walked the stairs to the Hill of Awe. Standing there amidst the still air, breathing deeply, he felt touched by somethign old and soothing yet again, stronger even than it had been in the woods. Whether it was the soul of Elendil he could not be sure, but he felt that the journey had been worth it after all.


End file.
